


So this is what it's like to care--take it back, take it back! There's no room for it here!

by ALzzza



Series: Oh, Doesn't it Hurt to Heal? [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dick is THE Big BrotherTM, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family, Gen, Good Big Brother Dick Grayson, Good Big Brother Jason Todd, Implied/Reference to Depression, Implied/Reference to Suicide Idealization, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason is Worried, Jason’s Subtle Self-Worth Issues, Talk of Suicide, Tim Drake Has Issues, batfam, but when don’t they tbh, if you don’t think his siblings have unholy faith in him then you’re sleeping, no suicide though, talk of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALzzza/pseuds/ALzzza
Summary: “Dick, we need to talk—it’sTim.”Jason walks into the room days after the incident, feels his suspicions hanging on him like boulders—because they don’t feel like suspicions at all; they feel like facts. He didn’t think that would scare him this much, but it does.Or, Jason Talks To Dick And Hopes Maybe He Can Fix This With Hugs





	So this is what it's like to care--take it back, take it back! There's no room for it here!

**Author's Note:**

> I usually try to keep the word count above 1000 but I thought this sat pretty well—next one’s longer! Promise! ;)
> 
> TW: Talk of suicide, talk of depression (If I miss any tags please let me know!!)

“Hey Dickie.” Jason greets, striding into the kitchen—movements slow and tired, “We need to talk.”

 

Dick looks up straight away, concern already pulling on his brow, because that’s just who he _is_. Jason can’t help but think Tim should have called Dick like he’d meant to, he’s always the better choice when it comes to... _anything_. “Jay? What’s wrong?”

 

Jason sighs, slumping into the chair next to him. Dick twists around so he can watch him. “It’s Tim.” The words feel heavy, but it does nothing to lighten the weight that’s been building on Jason’s chest ever since he picked up the phone Tuesday night.

 

Dick for his part sharpens, eyes growing razor edges as he watches Jason. “What is it? Is he okay?” His words are sharp too, like a knife ready to cut at the wrong move.

 

Or wrong _word_ , he thinks severely.

 

He watches those sharp eyes and feels his stomach twist. “He called...” He trails off, starting again the next second, “Last Tuesday. He meant to call _you_.” Dick's eyebrows furrow deeper, lines digging holes in his forehead, but Jay’s not done. “He was drunk. _Very_ drunk.”

 

Dick opens his mouth but Jason cuts in again, “That’s not the problem though.” Dick’s frown grows, looking ready to fall off his face. “Dick—” Jason hesitates again, “I think he’s depressed.”

 

Dick’s eyebrows jump up. “Depressed?” He asks just to make sure, and Jason’s stomach twists again.

 

“At least.”

 

Dick’s eyes widen worryingly, opens his mouth again, asking harshly, “ _At least_? What’s _that_ meant to mean?”

 

Jason’s own eyes sharpen—Dick’s not the only one with hidden knives—all kinds of protective instincts stirring in his gut, “ _What do you think it means,_ Dickhead?” Jason’s voice is even harsher, hands curling at his side.

 

Dick’s eyes widen again, leaning back—obviously noticing his misstep. “Woah—easy there.” Jason grits his teeth, reminds himself that punching Dick would be well and truly counterproductive. “It’s just, you don’t mean,” He hesitates too, mouth caught around the words like he doesn't want to say them either, “You don’t think he’s... _suicidal_?”

 

Jason closes his eyes, all the fear from Tuesday night rushing back, opens them again and says, words drying up in his throat, “I don’t know. _Probably not_.” Mouth tastes of something foul like bad coffee on an empty stomach, whispers—skin too tight, voice too hoarse, “Maybe.”

 

And he doesn’t know, not _really_ —but his guts been screaming at him in warning ever since he got back from Roy’s. It’s only getting louder.

 

He’s not stupid enough to ignore it a second time.

 

Dick’s eyes aren’t sharp to cut anymore but there’s still something in his gaze; blue eyes watching Jason in the shadow of the kitchen light with something he’d call deadly on anyone else. It’s the determination Jason’s only seen on occasion, the type Nightwing wears when it’s life or death—when the world’s about to burn. “What happened?”

 

Jason leans back in his chair, scrubs his hands over his face; _what happened_? “Look, I don’t know,” He blows out a breath, looking at Dicks too there _everything_ , “He called me at 3am, wasted beyond belief in the back of some club—I went to pick him up, and. He told me he’s _tired_ , N.” Jason looks to Dick eyes heavy as his chest, hopes maybe Dick has the answers. Can fix this up with hugs and too bright smiles—looks at his worried eyes and knows it’s a flimsy prospect. “I waited a couple days, thought maybe he’d talk, but he hasn’t. God, he might not even _remember_.”

 

Jason looks to Dick and tries, “He hasn’t mentioned anything to _you_...?”

 

But Dick just shakes his head. “No. He hasn’t.”

 

The air hangs like cement, silence caught in its hold. Then Jason asks, stomach dropping to the floor, “What are we gonna _do_?”

 

Dick swallows, eyes sliding away then back, “If he’s depressed; he needs _help_. We need to tell Bruce, at least. _God_ , we’ll need to find out if he’s suicidal—he can’t be patrolling, _fighting_ if he doesn’t want to make it _out_!” Dick drags his hands down his face, leaning forward onto the table and stays buried there, “We’ll need to _ask_ him.”

 

Jason looks at him. “You really think he’ll tell the truth?”

 

“I... _No_ , probably not.” He peers through his fingers at Jason, quirks a sad smile and says, “Worst comes to worst we can always get him drunk _again_.” Jason snorts harshly, little humor finding him—of course Dick’s here trying to make light of everything. It makes something in his heart hurt, but this is good. This is _great_ , they have a plan. A _goal_.

 

He swallows down any lingering doubt—Tim will be fine.

 

Jason looks at Dick, he has the greatest hero in world by his side.

 

Heart throbbing in his chest. He thinks, _and me_.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what to say about Jason's self worth in this one. Let's all just remember he's had a stressful couple days before you get mad at me, okay? Okay.
> 
> Anyywayyy, like I said up top, the next one's definitely longer. And it has more Angsty Tim in it! Aside from that, I'm still trying to figure out exactly where I want to go with this, so if you have any input or suggestions be sure to share! Plus comments literally make up my whole existence. :))


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